


Teach me how to fight

by Jikael



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Boxing & Fisticuffs, Bullying, Childhood Friends, Dads of Marmora (Voltron), Family, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2019-10-08 13:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17386934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jikael/pseuds/Jikael
Summary: Shiro isn't a fighter.Keith is, he always has been.But everything is rough for Shiro, and he can't let himself crumble when his world's crumbling too.He has to learn.Or Shiro and Keith are childhood friends, Shiro is bullied and there's some boxing in between.





	1. You're so cool.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're so... cool  
> You're so... beautiful  
> And you're so...

 

Shiro doesn't know when did it all start. When his family moved from Japan, he didn’t notice anything that his parents hadn't told him before. “ _They might think your accent is strange, or the way you look,”_ his mother had said. His father joined her right after: “ _but you should never let any of that affect you. You just be yourself and do your best, and they will love you.”_

Shiro tried to listen to them.

He likes to do a lot of stuff: he reads a lot, draws from time to time, stargazes, plays the old grandma's piano and studies with the encyclopedias in the library… Shiro is an expert at keeping himself busy. His mom used to say that he was a multi-task kid.

That constant motivation that his family gave him was the reason why he ignored the mockery about his accent at school and the whispers behind his back about how small he was. He didn’t have many friends, but he was happy and proud that his family had made such an effort to give him a better life.

That changed when his parents died. Now, the only people left in his house are him and his grandpa: even though grandpa didn’t even want to move in with them in the first place, they can’t afford to go back to Japan.

Without his daughter, Grandpa isn't the same. He tries to take care of him, and he does it pretty well for a 65-year-old, but the sadness in his eyes falls beyond the fatigue that goes along with age. He misses his daughter. And Shiro misses his parents, but Grandpa says that sorrow is like a worn-out dress: it’s best to leave it at home.

What Shiro has come to learn is that the sorrow he leaves at home simultaneously leaves a void in him. Even though he constantly tries to fill that void, it always ends up taking something from him at the end of the day, like a black hole.

Contrary to what his parents thought, they didn’t end up  _loving_ him at school; they seemed to dislike him more and more every day. They joked about his stutter, his height—5,2 was short for a 14-year-old kid, apparently—his skin tone, complexion… And many other personality traits and physical characteristics. Shiro knows he isn’t very  _cool,_ but at least he’s nice. Things didn’t often get physical, but then again,  _Shiro isn’t a fighter._

One of the things he enjoys is reading in the park. Even though he can read at home, today his grandpa told him to get out of the house, saying he should  _get out there like the normal kids._ Shiro  _knows_ that the actual reason was so he could set up his altar and mourn his parents without Shiro. Even though he would’ve liked to be with him—because mourning his parents alone felt terrible— Grandpa had made up his mind. Shiro would have to ‘seize the day’, after all.

When Austin and his squad approaches him on the bench, Shiro knows their intentions just can’t be good. Unfortunately, his mind isn't fast enough to tell his body to flee. When he comes back to himself, the group is already snatching away the book in his lap. Shiro tries to get the object back: grandpa got it as a gift for him, he _can’t_ let them break that.

Shiro’s eyes are already filling with tears, feeling powerless as he pulls for the book and they grab the book and him both, hitting him on his face and arms. He’s resigning to the loss of the object when  _he_ comes into the picture.That’s all he has to say about that, because he can't manage the right words, not even in his mind. How  _he_ appears out of nowhere, and, with a single pull, overshadows Shiro’s previous attempts to get his book back. Fierce, abrupt, like  _fire._

“Sorry it’s torn already,” he says, as if what he had just done hadn’t been the coolest thing in the entire Universe. With a strong right, he had broken Austin’s nose when he tried to grab the book again: when the rest of the group saw their leader’s bleeding nose, they ran away, and Austin ran behind.

When Shiro takes a look at his concerned face holding his book while nervously trying to pick up the sheets that insisted on falling from it, he realizes why Austin and his crew seemed so scared of him. The kid is at least 2 inches taller than every single one of them, and about four inches taller than Shiro. And the worst part—or  _the best?_ Shiro is having an internal debate about that— is that the guy’s ripped: his arms look strong and veiny, while his legs make him look like a martial artist. And his  _face…_ Even though Shiro had tried that look on himself—hoping to look like an 80’s cartoon—, his mom didn’t let him try again; because it had looked awful on him. He, however, looks like he could actually bring back that style.

It also helps that he looks like those animes.

At some point in his ogling, Shiro realizes he hasn’t responded. There’s an actual real-life cartoon knight—the coolest person in the world— holding Shiro’s book in his hands, and he can't even manage words.

“It’s okay,” Shiro says while taking the book from his hands, nervous to even make contact. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The boy answers, avoiding his gaze by blowing the fringe out of his face. He looks like a Naruto character.

“You shouldn’t have,” Shiro says, softly; as if talking too loudly would make the boy disappear faster than his food on recess.

The boy in front of him discards his sentence with a wave of his hand: “Dad says you shouldn’t hit without a reason,” he shrugs, downplaying what he did; “and _that,”_ he nods in the direction Austin’s group were before, “looked like a reason.”

Shiro makes a small sound in his throat, hoping that the boy interprets it as an understanding noise, instead of an  _I-literally-can’t talk-right-now_ one. He watches intently between the boy, the book and the direction Austin and his gang had fled to. A part of him wants the pretty ninja to suggest accompanying him to his house, another part shouts: _"you’re such a chicken._ " to the first part, and a third part is still in shock because he’s talking—  _sort of_ —to such a cool kid. Fortunately, the boy shuts down his inner debate quickly:

“Maybe we can still fix it.” He says. Shiro raises his eyebrows, questioning; he’s holding the object in question in his hands, and he doubts it has _any_ chance at all. “Superglue,” the boy suggests: “My dad says that you can fix anythin’ with Superglue.” He says matter-of-factly, and Shiro’s eyes shine with interest. He doesn't know what on Earth is Superglue, but it sounds powerful.

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” The boy says, after the awkward silence that falls upon them when they start walking across the park. The undercover ninja next to him said that he had Superglue in his house, so they’re, obviously, on their way to his house.

They’re walking in the middle of the street, unbothered at the prospect of a car crashing on them. The day is starting to end—his curfew nearing at the same time— and Shiro doesn't care as much as he’s used to. In fact, he is quite excited: he still can’t believe that the guy actually offered more help, and he is surprised to learn that he's really nice. He picks up every sheet that falls on the floor and hands them back to Shiro, and he doesn't even look  _annoyed_ by it.

“Shiro,” He says.

“Keith.” The boy smiles, and they keep walking. After a few minutes, they arrive at a beige house. It has a white rocking chair on the porch and a baby blue fence, and Shiro can’t help but think that it looks like a typical American household in those American movies.

Keith goes into the house, like a bird landing on a branch, like a gust of wind. Shiro stands there, hearing the never-ending chirping of birds at sunset mixed with the loud noises caused by Keith’s searching for the Superglue.

When he comes back, Shiro can’t contain his smile: his hair is scrambled comically, his skin looks flushed, and all he’s holding in his hands is a red tube, smaller than Shiro's hand.

“It has to work,” Keith’s face is dead serious, like he’s about to do high-risk surgery on his book. While he looks at Keith pasting carefully, sheet by sheet, the damage caused by Austin’s group, Shiro thinks that he would be lucky to have him as a friend.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a new day in town. Routine doesn’t bother Shiro:  he treasures being awakened by petrichor in his nose, mixed with hot tea prepared by his grandfather while the Sun’s still rising; he likes to water the plants and then watch TV with his grandfather before going to do the house chores. He loves routines because they’re stable, unlike everything they constantly avoid to talk about.

And because Shiro is a morning person, he finds himself being troubled by 3 am thoughts after feeling in his tongue the first sip of coffee. Summer vacation is almost over: in a few days, he will start 8th grade; he will be surrounded with new subjects, new schedules, new teachers, and new people.

People like Keith.

Since they met, Shiro started going to the park every day, hoping to meet the boy there. It works every time, and they grow closer and closer every day that passes. Shiro would even say it’s a part of his routine, if it weren’t for the fact that, while his routines are stable, his time with Keith is fluent. Although unpredictable, playing with Keith soothes him.

While he was watching a movie with Grandpa the night before, he had watched something that had left him stunned. He  _has_ to tell Keith. That’s how Shiro, just like a kid remembering to do his homework, says thank you for the food and gets up of the squeaky kitchen table; right off to call Keith. He goes to the living room, where the telephone is, dials, and waits.

Keith answers after three rings.

“You have Elizabeth Taylor’s eyes!” Shiro’s voice is demure, even with contained emotion. If Keith hadn’t been the one who answered, Shiro would be really embarrassed.

“Shiro?” Keith’s raspy voice rings in his ear, “What the-It’s _eight_ am! What are you talking about?”

Shiro feels his stomach drop. It  _is_ really early, after all.

“I’m-I’m really sorry, I didn’t think this through,” he says, giving his most sincere apology and clears his throat to continue “Yes, It’s Shiro. Good morning! Again, sorry for calling so- so early. It’s just... Last night I was watching this movie with grandpa and- It’s awesome! It’s- It’s about politics and romance… It even has a _princess!_ That later becomes queen, but that doesn’t matter. It matters that she-”.

“Alright,” Keith interrupts him. “Sounds like you have a lot to talk about.”

Even though Keith sounds amused, Shiro feels himself sink. He has heard that many times—from other people—, and it’s always followed by a quick  _“let’s talk about something else”._ It’s understandable: you’re supposed to learn how to talk first, before rambling. However, he’s caught off-guard by Keith’s follow up:

“Why don’t you just come here and tell me then? My dad’s gonna kill me for staying so long at the phone.”

Shiro suddenly recovers from being a puddle of pity.

(His heart, however, remains on the floor.)

“Y-you mean like, in the park?”

“No, it’s gonna be too hot when you get there. My house is fine.” Keith’s carefree tone confuses Shiro at times.

“You’re inviting me, just like that? Did you ask for permission?” he asks. Then, he senses Keith moving away from the device, and hears him scream _“Dad, Shiro’s coming over!”_ before he comes back to the phone and says:

“Yeah, ’s fine.”

Fine.  _Great._ Shiro had never actually  _gone into_ Keith’s house, but it’s okay. He tells Keith that he’ll be there and hangs up. He hears Grandpa coughing lowly in the kitchen and he goes to get the inhaler in his room, his mind still focused on Keith.

 

* * *

 

 

Heath Kogane is a simple man. Firefighter by occupation, single father of one son. His life can easily be summed up in those two things.  _Only_  two things _,_ and both of them never fail to give him headaches.

Keith is a special child, to say the least. He’s always on the street, causing trouble; playing with that little machine, or playing the instruments in the studio, making a scandal all over the house. He’s an impulsive child, disobedient, stubborn, hyperactive, rough, reckless...

But  _oh,_ the most special thing about Keith is his mother’s side of the family. Middle Eastern, severe people built like a rock tower. Intimidating, with simple tastes and penetrating eyes.

Krolia used to say that his family was big, placed mostly in Europe and Asia; nomads at some point, though most of them decided to settle down eventually. Fortunately, Heath only knows the family that lives nearby, and still, they’re  _10_  people. They own a small box gym near the center—because  _of_   _course_  they box— and they visit 5 times a week. When they don’t, they pick up Keith and he visits them, sometimes on the gym, sometimes on their house. And Heath is grateful,  _he really is._

That doesn’t make them less insufferable.

Upon meeting Krolia—who used to have a strong temper too—he assumed that his family wouldn’t be easy to deal with. He thought he had come to terms with that. He was  _supposed_ to.

But 11 years after her death, having Kolivan, Antok, Ulaz and Thace helping him with the barbecue — _read:_   _relentlessly criticizing his way of cooking_ —, Heath wonders how in hell does he manage that much patience in each of their visits.

“Kogane, the meat must be thawed already,” Thace talks from the sofa, while he thumbs through the book in his lap. Kolivan and Antok arrive from the market, almost dropping the bags while trying to come in.

“Somebody should tell whoever built this house that the demographic was humans, not elves. This is too low.” Kolivan says, shrinking to step into the house.

“It’s not ‘ _too low’._ I think you’re too high.”

Kolivan fake-laughed while putting the bags in the counter: “very funny, little man.” And then, Kolivan has the  _audacity_ to pat his head, like a dog.

“ _Little?_ For your information, the average height of Korean men is-” Heath’s outrage is interrupted by a certain little voice screaming upstairs:

_“Dad, Shiro’s coming over!!!”_

Heath looks between the un-made salsa, the meat in the sink, the heating grill outside, and the four men staring at him.

“And  _who the hell_ is Shiro?”

Every Marmora in the room—and Antok—gives him a collective look of “Man, if  _you_ don’t know…” and Heath sighs. Must be a friend.  _Should_ be a friend.

“Sounds imposing,” Kolivan rambles, “ _Shiro._ ” He tastes the name in his tongue, contemplative “A friend from school, perhaps?”

“He just graduated from Elementary, Kolivan. His friends live in the other half of the city.”

“Well, if they’re some kind of punk, we can always kick them out the traditional way.”

Heath suddenly remembers the day Keith brought home a junkie.  _Lord, have mercy._

 

 

* * *

_He certainly isn’t a junkie._ There is standing, in front of him, a kid. Barely five foot tall. Slanted puppy eyes, flushed down to his neck and sweaty like a pig.

“G-good afternoon,” the kid swallows, and looks frightened under the gaze of the three men in front of him—Thace is making the salad and Ulaz is doing the dishes; Kolivan and Antok are just  _particularly_ nosy—. “Is- Is Keith home?” A  _whistle_ would be lower than his voice.

Kolivan raises an eyebrow, and Heath almost wants to laugh.

“Move, uncles, he’s  _my_ guest.” The three men feel Keith’s little hands move them aside to put himself in front of the group.

“Come in,” he talks to Shiro, softly.

Since when does  _Keith_ talk softly?

“Dad, remember the kid of the of the other day, with the book?”

Heath nods, slowly taking in the fact that  _this_ kid is the reason Keith got home smiley and blush-ey a few weeks ago, and nervous enough to crush superglue in his fingers when Heath called him out on it.

“This is Shiro.” The kid is still frozen in place, so Keith grabs him by his shoulders and guides him in. The kid looks up at him and he’s… _disgustingly_ cute. He has braces, and a baby face. His eyes are big and gray and his cheeks are red. He looks like  _Bambi._ Heath can’t help but “aw” internally.

But this kid… This kid is  _danger._ He’s not gonna get charmed under that puppy look and a small  _“I promise to take him home before 9, sir,”_ when it’s obvious he’ll take him home at 3 am. When Keith was only a small bump in his mother’s belly, they had imagined this moment. Krolia had said she would be the bad cop in this situation and Heath would be the good cop.

But now she’s gone, and Heath has to figure out how to be both.

He tries his best to give the kid an unamused look.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” The kid says, and offers a shaky hand at him. He has a thick foreign accent; his grip is weak and his hand is sweaty.  _He can work with that._

Keith doesn't even let the poor kid finish his greeting; he’s already guiding him to the sides. “This is my uncle Kolivan and Antok. The lanky one over there is my uncle Ulaz, and the chubby one is my uncle Thace. They’re cooking. Do you like steak?”

“I really don’t wanna impose, Keith…” Shiro whispers.

So, he’s the “goody-two-shoes” type.  _Yeah, right._

“They do something like this every month, it’s okay. Now… You gonna eat?”

They’re already going up the creaking stairs, and the five men —Ulaz and Thace being alerted by the noise—are watching the two boys go up to Keith's room.

“Well, it seems like he’s alright.”

The meat is ready, steaming beside him. The four men are already on the table, and Keith is slowly sitting next to his  _friend._ Heath really thought he’d seen it all, and  _still…_

“Elizabeth Taylor?  _The_ Elizabeth Taylor?”

Keith raises his eyebrows and nods, exasperated, as if saying:  _who else could it be?_

“Are you talking about the actress, Elizabeth Taylor?”

“Yes, I am.”

Heath tries to hold in his laughter.

“Well, I wish, kiddo,” Heath lets himself do a dreamy, little sigh; “ _I wish.”_

Kolivan throws him a sharp, unamused glare, and Heath clears his throat, snapping back into himself.

“Then she wasn’t?” Keith says.

“No, Keith,” Heath denies it, once and for all: “as far as I’m concerned, your mom certainly  _wasn’t_ Elizabeth Taylor.”

At this point, Ulaz is cackling uncontrollably on the floor, and Thace is about to explode and do the same.

“Shiro said I had the same eyes as her.”

The five men stare at the kid. Kolivan almost chokes on his steak. Thace can go to hell for all he cares. “ _He’s like- twelve, what could he do” my ass,_ Heath thinks, because that was the best pick-up line in his arsenal for wooing Krolia, and the kid had just  _said_ it.

“He did, eh?” Heath tries to look at the boy, who’s shrinking more and more every minute “I used to say the same thing to Keith’s mom, ya know?” He takes a bite from his plate, hoping to look threatening.

Shiro finally looks him in the eye, cheeks red as apples— _no,_ Heath corrects himself;  _like the devil, this kid is the devil—._ It doesn't matter, because Heath is prepared for this. He’s been prepared since Keith came back from school on ‘07 Valentine’s Day, dozens of cards in his arms, from girls and boys all the same. He’s been prepared since he saw a little boy kiss Keith on his cheek and he didn’t see Keith punch him, but blush and touch his cheek, embarrassed. His kid is growing. But Heath doesn’t know if he wants him dating as a 13-year-old.

It’s just  _too soon._  


“Mhh. Is that true?” Thace crosses his arms, and Heath almosts feels second-hand embarrassment for Keith. But  _this,_ they’re prepared for this.

“Uncle, stop talking. Now.” Keith is visibly cringing out of  _first-hand_ embarrassment.

“You know, Antok also had that habit of comparing Kolivan to American act-”

“Don’t say it,” Keith pleads, but Thace keeps talking;  _“Stoptalkingstoptalkingstoptalking.”_

Antok joins them, asking them to “ _leave Brad Pitt out of it”._ Kolivan is glaring at Shiro too, but subtly. Heath starts to think that  _he’s_ better suited for this bad-cop thing.

“What exactly were your intentions?” He says, ice-cold. Heath would feel threatened, if he wasn’t a dad.

Shiro is stuttering. Heath almost feels bad for him, because his eyebrows are almost in his hairline and he’s trying to find words. But no, he’s  _bad._

“ _Alright,_ ” Keith interrupts, voice high, “Weren’t we going to play football? Uncle?”

They go to play, Keith trying to get Shiro to breathe while they go out, telling Shiro it must be the steak, or something.

While they play, and Shiro falls and falls and  _falls,_ stumbling in his own feet like a baby deer, the five men realize that Shiro is harmless. He’s like a kicked puppy. It’s almost funny how weak he is: like a cartoon.

But that’s not what bothers them. At least, not totally. They watch Keith carefully pick up Shiro from the floor, every time he falls, helping him through the game, while Shiro blushes and tries to follow his advice. They realize that the bothering part it’s because  _Keith_ is weak for the kid.

And _that’s_ ten times scarier.


	2. The devil is one of the cool kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith doesn't understand why, but he doesn't need to understand to act on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna stay with you for all of the summer.

Classes started a few days ago, and Shiro already has to go to Ms. Williams’ office. He really thought she had forgotten about the whole thing. But there he is, sitting in front of her desk, with her brown eyes staring at him, hopeful.

Shiro’s parents died a year ago. That was a fact, a crude fact; not a debate subject. He genuinely doesn’t know what does she want him to say.

“Your- your hair looks very beautiful like that, Ms. Williams.” Shiro is trying to fill the silence, but he really means it: Ms. Williams used to straighten her hair and wear it shoulder-length a year ago, but now, she wears it mid-back, and wild black curls frame her delicate face.

“You think?” she twirls one of her bouncing kinks in one finger, eyes shining; “I thought It’d be too much, 'cause I haven’t gone natural since-”

She blushes. She doesn’t really wear make-up, so Shiro can see clearly how red tints her dark-skinned cheeks. She gives Shiro a tired look and lays her hands back on her desk.

“I know what you’re doing…” She says, accusing; “And it’s really sweet. But we’re wasting time: you know we’re not here to talk about my hair, or my new recipe, or how many hours are in the day, Shiro.”

  
Shiro doesn’t say anything, because there’s nothing to say. Shiro’s parents passed away a year ago, and he remembers it like it was yesterday. How his teacher pulled him out of the classroom and told him that his parents had died in a car accident, rubbing his shoulders soothingly. How his grandfather picked him up from school, gave him a hug and told him to be strong. Shiro didn’t cry then, he didn’t cry in their funeral and he  _certainly_  won’t cry a year after just because Ms. Williams is looking at him like she expects more.

His eyes won’t stop burning, though.

Ms. Williams sighs, and the air gets heavier every time she frowns like that. Shiro doesn’t know why does he have to be here: he does his homework, he’s respectful to his teachers and peers; and he’s academically one of the best of his class. He doesn’t recall his grades dropping after the accident. He might’ve been sad, but that wasn’t something the school needed to be worried about. 

“Why don’t you tell me about your classes? Are you picking up or are they going too fast? Your English teacher says you’re improving, now you’re better at grammar than most of your class.”

It’s always like this: they end up talking about academic issues. Shiro breathes normally again.  _This_ , he can understand.

“Yes, I-I am getting better at English. I was hoping I could sign up for some advanced classes next year; in science, specifically.” He says, hoping he doesn’t sound too pretentious. He knows he doesn’t look or talk like he’s able to take advanced classes, but he is working hard: he used to be really advanced for his class back in Japan, but in English he didn’t understand much of the technical vocabulary, so he had to do research after. He was studying, though. Hopefully he would be able to level himself this year and get back on track the next one.

“Motivations! That’s great Shiro. You know, your teacher also told me you’re having trouble with oral speech. I’ve noticed you stutter sometimes.”

“Yes. I- I used to have a nervous stutter, when I was little: it got very serious, so I went to a-” he pauses, trying to remember the word for it in English “-a speech therapist. It’s mostly gone when I- when I talk in Japanese, but It seems to come back when I talk in English.” He says, a little embarrassed about himself.

“It’s not that bad, don’t worry; I’m sure you’re just adjusting to talking in a new language.” Ms. Williams says, reassuring.

“Yes. I-I get a bit nervous in class when I’m told to read something out loud.” More than a bit nervous. Shiro  _sweats_. He  _sweats_  when the teacher asks him to read. He gets red all over and suddenly everything his classmates say about him kind of make sense and his throat closes up and…  _Yeah_. He hates it.

Ms. Williams gets a glint in her eyes Shiro doesn’t wanna play with.

“Yeah? Are you scared of messing up?”

Yeah, he’s scared of messing up a vowel or getting stuck in one sentence and get reminded of it all week long by people repeatedly hitting him on the back of his head and calling him names about it. He’s scared of messing up because messing up got him to know bad words before technical words just because they kept throwing them on his face every time, he said a word wrong. He’s scared of messing up, because, if everything in his day is already messed up  _why add more to the list?_

Shiro nods, but doesn’t really look up.

“You’re  _allowed_  to mess up sometimes, you know?” her voice is soft, like she’s talking to a wounded animal: “you’re a good student: you’re smart, you work hard, you’re kind, polite, participative, your grades are almost perfect. But we know you’re going through a hard time, and we don’t see you coping with it. Some people have a healthy way of coping with a loss, others are terribly problematic; and  _some_  people choose not to cope at all.” She looks pointedly at Shiro “and that’s not healthy either.”

Shiro doesn’t mean to, but he makes himself small, crossing his arms and sinking in his seat. And he isn’t crying, but he wants to. He’s not sure if the lump in his throat is because of anxiety or tears.

“I know-I’ve talked to your grandfather, and I know this is not how you do these things in your country,”  _it’s really not._  He really doesn’t want to think about this anymore; “But here, it would’ve been healthier if you had failed a few of your classes, refused to go to school for weeks or had a meltdown in class than it was acting like nothing happened at all. At least, we’d have an idea about what’s in your head.”

_You won’t._ She’s really going to keep talking, and Shiro likes her: he knows she means well; he sees it in her eyes. But there are many things throughout the day he has to deal with and he really doesn’t want this to be one of them, because it hurts a hundred times worse than everything else. He doesn’t know if It was because of that or because he just couldn’t keep it in anymore that he says:

“I miss them very much, and I hope they’re well, wherever they are.”

Ms. Williams is looking at him, without saying a word. Months coming to her office, and this is the first time he sees her mildly pleased with him.

“May I go now?”

Ms. Williams dismisses him.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith doesn't get it.

He started middle school a few weeks ago, and everything seems upside down. He's  _supposed_  to be a teenager already—according to his biology book—, but he doesn't feel that different. He's still  _kinda_  rough,  _kinda_  obnoxious, and inmature.

Everything's the same, but sweatier.

He's awkward. He doesn't talk much and when he does, he says dumb stuff. That's how it was in elementary, but then, everyone else said dumb stuff too, so he didn't worry.

Now, he's still that messy and occasionally loud kid, but everyone thinks is ten times cooler.  _Why_? Who the hell knows.

So yeah, seventh grade is treating him well: It's about Shiro. Many things seem to be about Shiro, lately.

He's not complaining, though. Shiro' s cool.

He's like a walking star. Not like a ball of gas, of course. More like he shines. He lights up every room he's in, with gentle smiles and sweet eyes. All the teachers and school personnel seem to love him, and Keith gets it, because he's  _polite_  and  _kind_  and eager to help—unlike... Anyone else in that school, really.  _Especially_  students—, and, if you looked up "good" in the dictionary, he's almost sure there would be a Shiro picture attached in there.

What Keith  _doesn't_  get is why students don't like him. Lance—a lanky blue-eyed kid in his class he's not really sure how he ended up being friends with— said Keith is just ‘too dense’, but he  _isn't_. Because Shiro is sweet. He doesn't talk shit like everyone else, his smiles are kind and his eyes are soft. He likes to talk to people, and the way he hurriedly tries to find words to do so it's almost heart-melting.  _They don't deserve him._  When they met, he understood why: Shiro was in the streets, and everyone's a jerk in the streets. The kids who were picking on him probably didn't even know him— 'cause if they did, they wouldn't have done that—. But  _here_? It just doesn't make sense.

That's why Keith genuinely thought Shiro was everyone's friend until a few days ago. He still hadn't accustomed to his schedule, and he was stumbling through the hallways trying to find his class, when he saw him. He was standing there, looking neat as always: hiding his chin in a light-yellow turtleneck and looking at his phone, while biting his lip. He  _shined_ , even when he made himself small, but when Keith greeted him, he beamed. He did that sweet thin-lipped smile he does when he's trying to contain his excitement, but his eyes always give him out. They almost disappear beneath his cheeks, and you would almost think they're actually closed, if it weren't for the fact that they shine brighter than a thousand light bulbs.

He greeted him back in that cute accent, and Keith thought his name was  _too damn simple_  to be pronounced differently in other languages, but Shiro says it like it's a forehead kiss, quick, and sweet like honey.

It made Keith feel funny, fluttery.  _And sweaty_. But he was always sweaty lately so it didn't matter. What  _mattered_  was that the people around him—some eighth graders Keith doesn't know— seemed confused, and one of them impersonated Shiro, mockingly. Shiro seemed to make himself even smaller, and his face got really pink. When everyone else laughed, Shiro walked Keith's way, almost too fast, and offered to help him find his class. Keith was about to ask them what the heck was that all about, but Shiro had a look in his eyes like he wanted him to just drop it, so he just kept walking.

Now, he  _still_  doesn't get what was that all about, and he doesn't want to. Just the thought of it makes him angry. They're on recess, eating, side by side, and Shiro's eating some home-made stuff Keith hasn't heard about in his life while Keith is eating his usual meat sandwich his uncle Ulaz makes. Keith knows he hangs out with the Holt siblings—Pidge and Matt, both very young for their classes, big-mouth and small body. Smaller than Shiro, actually—, but he steals him from time to time because he likes to be alone with him sometimes ( _Shiro is cool, okay? He's just so cool)._

"And then they got out of the house. All four of them, and they were so big. I've never gone so fast in my life. I still have the scar of when one of them bit me. It had some really sharp teeth." Keith finishes his story, and Shiro's eyes get really big when he shows him his scar. Shiro gasps, and it's always like this: he seems to think that his nearly-illegal adventures are the greatest thing in the world. It's  _cute_ , but everything's cute about Shiro, so he tries to stop getting so proud about that excitement.

"Yeah, my dad was scared shitless," Keith usually thinks Shiro is too decent to curse around him, but he can't find a better word; "he took me on a camping trip to ‘ _purify my soul_ ’, a few days after. I liked it, though, the stars look really cool out in the wild."

_Cool_  is an understatement (Shiro looks  _cool_  too).

And he's looking at him like he said something unbelievably great. His eyebrows are almost as high as his hairline, and his voice is excited when he says:

"Yeah! My grandpa took me to see the stars once; they looked beautiful."

That's the word.  _Beautiful_. It fits with the stars, and it fits with Shiro too.

Shiro finishes his lunch, and he looks to where he has another box exactly like the one he had just eaten. He blushes, and looks at Keith shyly. Keith doesn't want to be nosy, but it's been weeks and before he can contain himself, he's asking:

"Do you bring two lunches?"

Shiro scrunches his nose, bites his lip, and avoids looking him in the eye. He nods, and Keith raises an eyebrow, hoping he wants to explain why.

" _Yeah_... " he scrubs the back of his head, and he gets light-hearted, almost like joking. Keith kinda thinks he's going to lie, but Shiro doesn't seem to be the kind to lie just because. " _This_  is the one for me," he gets that light self-deprecating tone, and that's the one thing Keith doesn't like from Shiro; "and  _this_  is the one they take from me."

His laugh is soft and honest while saying it—as if he thinks the fact that someone steals his lunch is actually funny—, but he's blushing furiously. That kind of blush he gets, Keith has come to learn, when he thinks he's being lame. Keith realizes he's not lying, and it makes his blood boil.

" _No_   _kidding_ " Keith says, and laughs lowly, because it's Shiro and he doesn't like to see Shiro uncomfortable around him. He sees him reluctantly opening the other box, looking at the food the way Keith looks at his plate when his uncles serve him five times and expect him to eat the sixth.

"Let's make a deal," Keith says, and Shiro stops trying to eat the food in his lap; "I give you half of my sandwich if you give me your bentu thing."

"It's called ‘bento box’." Shiro says, but he's  _smiling_. And Keith likes him smiling.

"Whatever," he says, rolling his eyes; "deal?"  
And he's eating that thing, Shiro's eating his sandwich, and everything's fine. Super fine—the thing's  _delicious_ , though—, but there's still one thing on his mind:  
"Who takes this from you, exactly?"

 

* * *

 

It had been some time since Shiro had the necessity to hide under the benches. It's a really hot day, the air is almost suffocating, even in the shadows. It's recess, Matt and Pidge are sitting beside him eating their lunch while scolding Shiro for being such an idiot. Since Shiro's lunch was taken again, they decided to share half of their food with him. Well,  _Matt_  did.

He's avoiding Keith. The past few days have been heaven on Earth to Shiro, because they've been talking a lot and he's having the opportunity to know Keith. The more he knows, the more he likes about him. But Shiro's knees are disgustingly bruised, and his lip is swollen, so he just can't see him today. Matt told him the other day that he overheard Keith threatening the basketball team to beat them up if they didn't leave Shiro alone. They don't seem to care, because they cornered Shiro in the bathroom today and, very physically, told him to  _man up_  and stop hiding behind the new kid.

"Are you being serious right now?" Matt says. He's only 11, but he's far more of an older brother to Shiro than Shiro is to him.

"I don't want him to worry."

"You have the guy who makes the basketball team look small and skinny protecting your weak ass and you ' _don't want him to worry'?_  What the fuck, Shiro. Seriously." Pidge says, rolling her eyes.

She's right, though. They were there when the basketball team suddenly got in the mood to beat him up. They tried to defend him, but they're 7 and 11 years old, and about his size. Their mouths might be smart, and they might really work when he needs a comeback for an insult, but they can't stop a beating.

Normally Shiro would listen to them, because aside from the fact that they're the only people—before Keith— who liked hanging out with him, they don't hold any reservations to tell him when he's being an idiot. But things aren't normal when it comes to Keith: His heart is always winning when it comes to him, and, right now, his heart is telling him he's pathetic. He's  _not_  worth it. But Keith looks at him like he is, and Shiro will hold on to that as long as he can. And " _long_ " will not be long if Keith always comes in to fight for him.

"You don't understand…"

" _What_  don't we understand? That you want to get beat up the rest of your life?" Matt says, so abrupt he needs to adjust his glasses. "Because you  _don't_  wanna tell your grandfather, you  _don't_  wanna tell the school council and you  _don't_  want Mister Muscle's protection." Matt sounds tired, and that sound makes him sound older than he is, even with that high voice. Shiro knows they're worried for him, because things are getting worse and they can't just out-talk Shiro's way out of it.

_They're right_. But, like he said it would, his heart is winning this time.

"I like him."

He finally says it out loud, and it feels relieving. It feels like finally singing out loud a song you've had stuck in your head for weeks.

"Yeah, we  _know_  that, you've been talking about him for weeks" Pidge says, annoyed. Matt agrees.

_They're not getting it._

"No, I really like him."

"Yeah,  _we know_." Pidge rolls his eyes, and Shiro doesn't know any more words to explain it.

"No, I like him like- those romantic songs on the radio."

_That's_  when they get it. It's almost like getting a joke, because it's ridiculously obvious. Their eyes get big, big, and their eyebrows are high, hidden beneath their fringe. Shiro blushes harder, and expects their reaction. He's been thinking about it, and he doesn't think they'll react badly.

That doesn't stop him from getting nervous.

"Oh," Matt says, " _Oh_."

"Makes sense." Pidge finally says, and it's good. It's  _normal_.

"Yeah..." Matt's still joining up the dots, "You're always blushing when talking to him."

"Your blood pressure increases." Pidge notes.

"Your pupils dilate," Matt adds, and  _oh,_  Shiro should've known they'd make an analysis. How did they even get close enough to note  _that_? "You get sweatier than usual."

"Your eyes are shiny when talking to him."

"And you smile like-ten times more whenever we even mention him."

"How didn't we think about it  _sooner_?" Matt says, and he looks genuinely concerned.

"Talk for yourself, bitch. I've had my thoughts since Shiro dropped all his shit when we said his name." And Shiro will never get over that small child saying such profanities. But this time, it makes him smile.

"Whatever, pigeon," Matt says, dropping it, and he turns to Shiro, wiggling his eyebrows; "are you gonna do  _something_  about it? I thought I saw something when he didn't laugh when you crashed your face into a pole." He says.

Shiro cringes, because that was awfully embarrassing.

"He likes to see the stars, so I'm going to take him to see them through a telescope." That was one of the few things Shiro had in common with Keith. And he was going to take advantage of it.

"A date already? I didn't think you'd have it in you." Pidge says, and starts making up a poem about a date in the observatory.

"It's not a date. I have a telescope at home."  
Pidge and Matt gasp, ofended.

"And you didn't think of inviting  _us_  first? Pidge, gimme your hair. I'm going to make myself a mullet so I can woo Shiro enough to get into his house."

"Oh God." Keith just spotted him, and he's walking his way.

"There he is.  _Your boy_." Matt is sighing like  _he's_  the one who likes him. Then, he does a deeper, raspy voice. Or tries to. " _Howdy_  Shiro, ye wanna gimme some kisses and then drink some hot milk? Preferably mine?"

Shiro wants the earth to swallow him whole. "Matt!"

"Go get your cowboy, lil' horse." Shiro decides there's nothing worse than Matt's version of a southern accent. "But first, tell me," he draws Shiro closer, whispering "Is it true that you get that butterfly thingy?" he taps Shiro's belly. They both giggle, and suddenly, they start looking a little more their age.

_Shiro nods._


	3. Just... Try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I disappear for months?? Yes, i did. Will you forgive me? Please?  
> I'm not gonna make excuses. It was a mistake.  
> By the way, are SK here very cringy because they are teenagers or just because I'm cringy? The world will never know.  
> If you leave any comment on how you feel about this, I would be so thankful. I'm makes me really happy to read your comments. I'm going to edit tomorrow (again) these three chapters, English is actually my 2nd language and I'm still learning a lot. Anyways, hope you enjoy it💕

Fridays used to mean adventures. Getting in trouble, drinking their juice boxes after a regular shot of adrenaline. They seemed childish on the wider frame, but some of those adventures stood really close to the line where legal and illegal collide. He and his friends almost blew up a  _meth lab_  once—accidentally, of course, but still-they thought it was a fucking  _ice-cream truck_ , god—. 

_Did his dad give a damn?_  No. He only grounded him for like- a month, scolded him and that was the end of it. 

That's the reason why this is just ridiculous. 

His dad keeps screaming like his life depends on it. It's like fire, hot and untamed, burning everything and everyone that tried to push through. Keith ain’t scared, though his ears feel numb from how long his dad has been shouting at him.

"Just tell me what am I doing wrong, Keith." His brown eyes stare at him. It’s  _invasive_ , to look at someone in the eye when they look so torn inside out; especially when that person is your dad.  _This is not what this is about,_  he's been trying to tell him, but he doesn't leave any air to talk in. His chest is aching, because he can’t stand to break his dad’s heart again. And this time, it’s not even on purpose. 

The second he took one look at Shiro earlier at school he knew what was up, and he was  _not_  happy about it. Because Shiro is…  _sunshine_ ,  ** _flowers_** and all that shit you hear about in fairytales. That smile and a swollen lip should never be in the same scenario. He had to fix it. That was why he went straight up to the table where the basketball team sat and hit Austin in the nose…  _again_. 

He got the chance to leave a few reminders to  _fuck off_  in all of their faces before a teacher separated them. He gets why his dad’s so mad; Keith also has one black eye. But it doesn’t even hurt that much—he’s had worse, to be honest. 

Keith gets angry easily, gets  _desperate_  easily, and his way of showing that is… very physical. That’s something he won’t debate against. He acknowledges it, and he’s trying to work on it. For his dad, mainly. 

But if you requested him to beat those assholes up again, he would do it, gladly.  _No doubt_. They deserved it. 

It’s almost like, just when he’s trying to stop punching people out of rage, the world decides to breed more assholes. Is directly proportional, as his math teacher would say. 

_Or was it inversely proportional?_  He doesn’t know. He was probably drawing at that class. 

He isn’t even  _suspended_. The bastards had some “great game” ahead, —yeah, get those quotation marks really marked up, Keith ain’t buying  _that_ — the school didn’t want them to miss it, and they needed to practice. He’ll just have detention for a month, which is... not great, but it’s better than what was supposed to happen.

“You’re not getting it dad; this is not what it looks-”

“Every time you say that, it ends up being something worse.” His dad rubs at his temples. He’s tired of cleaning Keith’s shit, he always says. Understandable, but inaccurate. Keith hasn’t even  _pooped_  in a week. “Is it my work schedule? You know I can switch back to…”

“You don’t have to do that.” Keith says, shaking his head, because it’s really not a big deal. Like he’s said before, he has done worst stuff and got less severe reactions than this. 

“I know-we, your uncles and I, we know you miss your mom.” he’s getting choked up, and Keith doesn’t want that.  _Yeah_ , a few months ago he might’ve been one step from juvenile, but he never did it for attention, to show defiance or whatever they thought was the reason. He just did it because he wanted to; he didn’t really think it through. 

He’s trying to know better now, because he knows he’s been their rock since his mom died. But rocks are stable and reliable, not unpredictable.

“I do, dad.” He says, and he means it. 

His dad finally lets him talk. He’s fighting back tears and  _god_ \- Keith really doesn’t like to see his dad crying. It makes him look so…  _heartbroken_ , like his wound is as fresh as the tears falling from his cheeks. He’s trying to hide it, but the way he curls into himself and hides his face into his hands is forever burned in Keith’s memory. 

“This is not what you think it is,” he whispers. He’s trying to avoid crying about this too. “I- remember Shiro?” 

His dad nods, but his face is still hidden. 

“They were messing with him. He had to take two lunches at school because those fu…!” his dad finally looks at him… disapprovingly, before he says the bad word; “ _kids_. Because these  _kids_  kept grabbing his lunch. And I don’t know, something in my gut tells me that they do more than that. So, I asked them politely if they’d stop doin’ that, they got mad and beat Shiro up. I found out and got mad, so I beat  _them_  up.”

One second passes. 

Then two. 

“Did you really do that, Keith?” 

Keith nods. His dad is strangely neutral, so he doesn’t know whether to act proud or ashamed. He is  _neither_  of them. He just wishes that fight’s enough for those kids to leave Shiro alone.

“That’s…  _good_ , son. But you should really consider to tell an adult before you get so involved.” 

“You have to know there is no threatening good enough to snap me out of it, dad.” Keith rolls his eyes. His dad should know that, of all people. 

“There is, if there’s the word ‘expelled’ in it.”

They were going to start arguing about it, when the doorbell rang. 

 

* * *

 

 

Just as he had foreseen, Keith got in trouble for this little boy. Koganes have always been suckers for pretty smiles. At least, the kid doesn’t seem aware of that, or he just doesn’t show any interest on using it in his favor. 

They’re eating cookies. Before he answered the doorbell, Keith had given him a warning: that he wouldn’t be rude for Shiro because of the fight. He rambled about how it wasn’t Shiro’s fault. 

_“You don’t get it dad, he’s just too good_ ,” Keith had said, frowning next to him, putting his small hand on top of his just before he opened the door. 

Heath doesn’t really believe him.  _Shiro_  is a teen. There's no teen on this earth that you could qualify as ' _too good_ ’. Even if they still have a baby face, like this boy and his son. Heath tries not to fall for his little act, he really does; but it’s hard. He’s surprised, because Heath looked like a sweaty chimpanzee when he was Shiro’s age.  _Yet_ , Shiro looks like bambi. In fact, he's looking at him like a baby deer, right now.

“P-please don’t say anything bad to Keith because of this-I mean, like- _scold him? No, don’t do that_.” Shiro is as crimson as the topping of his cookies, and he hasn’t eaten one bit from them. 

He said his grandpa had helped him cook them “to apologize to Mr. Kogane.” And they’re  _delicious_! They managed to put him in a good mood again. Although he wouldn't express that out loud. He’s just eating his cookie, entertained watching the kid trying to grasp the words that seem to be torn from his mouth just as he’s about to say them. 

“I had- I  _have had_  a really bad time trying to adjust to middle school.” Shiro isn’t looking him in the eye, and Heath is just watching him intently. 

Is  _this_  what he wants for his son? 

“I have managed, but everything has been not hard anymore-uhm…  _more easy_? Since Keith and I met.” Shiro is visibly struggling getting out the words. Heath remembers that Keith said the boy’s Japanese, that he hasn’t been in town for that long. “Sir, I don’t know if I’m expressing myself the right way,” he sighs, and he looks so  _frustrated_  with himself that it makes Heath actually want to listen “no one did something like Keith did for me in the morning.  _Never_. I know  _I_  should be one doing that for me, but I- I have fear. I’m thankful for what he did, even if I would thank more that he  _didn’t_  anymore. I don’t want Keith to get in trouble. But I’m- I’m really h-happy he  _cares_. A-and I... I care for him too. So, don’t say anything to him. Be- be happy you have a good son.” He finishes. 

He looks physically exhausted, just from saying that; and Heath genuinely doesn’t know what to say. Because that was…  _messy_ , to say the least. 

He things he  _gets_  it. And yeah, maybe  _this_  is exactly what he wants for his son.

He made  _cookies_ , for fucks sake! And he might look like a coward, and have a  _coward’s_  attitude, but the little shit came to his home, brought  _goddamn_  cookies, and took full responsibility for something that  _wasn’t even his fault,_  just so Keith wouldn’t be scolded. He admitted he cares for him!! Shit, when Heath was  _his_  age, he would pretend to be  _grossed out_  about the girl he liked just because he didn't want his friends to mock him. And the kid just said it in front of Keith, and in front of him, Keith’s  _dad_. And he said all that through all the stutters, and speaking in a secondary language. 

That’s  _pretty damn brave_ , if you ask him. 

He looks at Keith for help, because he’s still out of words. And Keith is-  _God_. Even if he didn’t want this for his son, it’s not like he has any saying on the matter anymore. Because Keith is smiling like he’s the happiest bastard out there, and he’s looking at Shiro like he hung the moon and the stars. He can practically read  _“he said he cares about me!!!!!!!!!”_  in his red cheeks and sappy smile. 

Heath doesn’t remember his own puppy love being so goddamn pure. 

When Keith finally looks at his father. Heath can almost feel the love for a millisecond, before he looks at him like he’s saying  _“you see what I’m talkin' bout, dad?”_

_Damn Bambi 2.0 and his noble ass_. And damn this fucking bad cop thing. 

This kid is gonna be part of the family. 

“I  _know_  I have a good son, Shiro. And I also know he has a really good friend in you,” Heath says. 

Shiro deflates like he was holding his breath. 

 

* * *

 

 

Shiro was holding his breath and he didn’t even notice it until he felt his chest untighten. Mr. Kogane didn’t yell at him or anything like it. And he thinks Shiro is a good friend!  _That’s_  an advance. The last time he stepped on his household he thought the man wanted to beat him. 

On the other part, Keith is looking at him weird, like he has something in his face. Shiro’s still blushing, but  _can you blame him_  though? That was really hard.

“You have guts, kid. Kolivan would like you.” Keith's father says, and that’s  _officially_  the first time someone says something like that. The  _gut_  part, and the  _liking_  part. Shiro finds himself smiling. The smile comes out very honest, he didn’t realize he was smiling until he couldn’t see Mr. Kogane properly. It’s kind of weird because he has braces and his smile is not that pretty, but he means it; so, he tries not to make a big deal out of it. 

He hears Keith say  _dear lord_  in the background, followed with a loud thump. When Shiro asks what happened and he just says that he hit himself with the table, so Shiro asks him if he’s okay. 

“‘M fine, Shiro” Keith says, but he’s not looking at him anymore. “My- my box class is at 5. I was thinking… if maybe—  _and you don’t have to if you don’t want to_ — you would like to come with me, and then… I don't know, go for an  _ice-cream_?” Keith asks, a little hesitant. Shiro feels his heart jump in his chest. Keith stops and looks at him in the eye “-or not. If you don’t want to.” 

Shiro was out of words. 

Ice-cream was like, a thing here in America, wasn’t it? Like a  _date_  thing. Is it a date?  _kEITH LIKES GUYS TOO?_

Ok, he’s not going to get excited. It’s probably not. Even if Keith liked guys— _which is not a possibility because he's sure he heard a gossip about Keith kissing this 7th grade girl during a party_ —, that wouldn’t automatically mean that he likes  _Shiro_. It’s probably not a date. He’s also inviting him to a box class, that’s like totally  _not_  a date scenario. But then again, Shiro hasn't ever been on a date, and his date ideas come from watching romcoms. 

_Not_  a date, though. 

It’s  _not_  a date. 

Why can't he stop smiling then?

“Keith!” Keith’s dad eyes are really open, and he sounds alarmed. 

“ _What_?! He always says he wouldn’t feel so bad about me fighting those assholes if he could do it too. I’ll ask uncle Ulaz if he can handle the class today so it’s not so rough for him” Keith is frowning, offended somehow by his dad’s words, “I wouldn’t let my uncles beat him dad, c’mon.”

And it’s so hard not to get excited about all this when Keith looks so cute when he’s upset. He makes that face where his eyebrows frame his face so beautifully and that pout that makes Shiro want to scream out of frustration. And he has those voice cracks that shouldn’t sound so cute but somehow  _do_? It’s not fair.  

“S-sure, why not.” He says, “let me just ask my grandpa.” 

 

* * *

 

 

The box gym is a nice, totally non-threatening two-stories building. It's a really dark, purplish blue, and the sign on top says "MARMORA's gym" with a huge sword-like weapon that has a purple gem on the handle adorning it. 

_Totally non-threatening_. 

 

But it's going to be fine. He's with Keith,  _right_? So, he ignores the loud, masculine voice yelling " ** _HERE COMES THE BOOM_**!" along with what  _sounds_ like heavy metal as they enter the huge purple door. This is perfect for a badass box movie scene. Shiro feels totally out of place. 

 

If he thought Keith was big, these people were  _giants_. They were bigger than Mr. Kogane, broader and just-,  _scarier_. They walked along the place carrying huge bags of… he doesn't know, to be honest.  _Box_   _stuff_? They seemed heavy, though. 

 

He knows he shouldn’t be scared. He’s heard enough stories about Keith’s family to know that they’re mostly just as  _sweet_  as him. Ulaz likes to cook on his free time, Regris knits because he finds it relaxing, and Antok has an ugly habit of rescuing stray cats from the streets. And they’re all  _inmigrants_ , like Shiro! Besides, he needs to stop judging people by the way they look. He also needs to stop being a  _coward_. 

Still, he can’t help but jump when he feels a huge hand place itself in his shoulder. 

"Keith, you've arrived!!" The tall, dark-skinned man with the mohawk haircut from the barbecue is now picking up Keith from the floor, hugging him—yes, Shiro researched his haircut a few days ago.  _Sue him_ —. He is skinnier than all the other adults in the gym, and still- he's three times broader than Shiro. That's mostly why Shiro almost shrieks when he gives him a strong pat on his shoulder.

 

"And you brought your little friend! Shiro, is it? I'm Keith's uncle, Ulaz. The ' _cool_ ' one, you could say. You can call me Ulaz." 

"Hello, s-sir."

"Are you going to take the class?" He looks at him and Shiro is frozen on the spot, so he turns to Keith: "Is he going to take the class with us?"

"I've-I've never boxed, sir." Shiro says. 

"See, that's why it's a class, not a competition, son." 

When he looks at Keith, he just shrugs, as if saying " _why not, dude?"._  And why not dude indeed, so he agrees. Who knows, maybe one day he'll be able to throw a punch without falling because of this one class.

"Ok Shiro, I currently don't have anyone else in my beginner's class, so it's just you and me for now;" He goes to grab a bag and walks to one of the mats, gesturing Shiro to follow him. When master Ulaz sees Keith walking after them, he points at him with his water bottle. " _You_! Stop following us like a puppy. Go train to the other mat, over there." He gestures to a random mat, Keith blushes and walks off, shrinking in his step.

"We're gonna do some conditioning first. First, you have to stretch a little. I'm glad you're wearing shorts and not jeans; that would've been hard."  _Oh_. The only time Shiro tried to stretch was in PE, but,most of the time, he only  _pretended_  to stretch. He didn't actually  _do_  it. The Universe is punishing him for being a liar. 

People always said his arms and legs looked like noodles, but now, they actually  _felt_  like they were. 20 minutes into physical conditioning and Shiro feels like he's going to die. When he looks up, face drenched in sweat, he realizes  _why exactly_  this was a bad idea. It has nothing to do with the fact that his body is tearing apart. It's  _worse_. He thinks. Or not.

He'll decide that later. 

From this angle, he gets a view. And  _what a view._  It's like all those magazines full of male models he kept hidden under his mattress, but on live. Keith Kogane had taken off his shirt, and he was  _sweaty_.  Shiro has officially stopped working like a normal human being. One second he is  _catching_  his breath and the next one he can't breathe  _at all_ , because Keith suddenly got in the mood to punch the air, relentlessly. And his arms  _bulge_. They  ** _bulge_**!!!! 

Shiro really doesn't know if he should be  _thankful_  or if he should be cursing his bad luck. He mentally prays for his intimate parts to stay in place. 

"Ok kiddo, now we're going to work in some forms- _hey_ ," master Ulaz is apparently talking to him, "Shiro, my eyes are  _right here,"_  he waves his hand in front of Shiro's face, but Shiro is having an epiphany. Cannot respond. 

He  _has_  to respond, but he actually forgot how to function in english because Keith is drinking from a water bottle in a completely  _undecent_  way and-  _is this allowed_? Is this-good grief. His face feels like it's burning. 

"I-I am… muscl- ** _SORRY_**. I am  _sorry_. I-I" 

"What are you even-" master Ulaz turns around to see what he's watching and  _ugh_ , Shiro wants the Earth to swallow him whole. "You  _have_  to be kidding me, son." master Ulaz  _knows_. He's making that face- he totally knows. 

"Keith!" master Ulaz yells. Keith looks at them and oh,  _help_ , his eyes look even more violet in the gym's lights. "Get out of Shiro's visual range, if you would" he grabs the bandages from the floor and walks towards Shiro. "And you-" he points at him with the bandages, whispering "we need to work on your focus, kid. And  _please_ , for God's sake, try to be less obvious the next time you're thirsting over my  _nephew_." 

"Ok uncle," Keith says, walking to another mat. He's  _blushing_. His chest is blushing. His...  _sculpted,_   _naked_  chest… "Is Shiro okay, though?" 

"He's fine, he just has a little bit of trouble with- _concentration_." master Ulaz waves him to walk faster, "now get out of here, nephew."

He turns to look at Shiro again, a mad man grin spreading in his face. 

"If you look at him like that in front of Thace, or anyone in this family, really, they won't be as cool as I am about it, son;" he says, throwing him the bandages, "think about that."

 

* * *

 

 

They get the ice-cream, like Keith said. They're laughing so hard their bellies hurt. Shiro is slowly getting over the most embarrassing moment in his live. It's not a date, but his heart is fluttering like it is and he just realizes he  _has_  to try. He can't not try. Keith is just too amazing and- he knows that if he turns him down, he won't stop being his friend. 

He will ask him out on a real date. 

 


	4. Operation: wooing Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's literally 118 f° where I live, my air conditioner's busted and the guy that was supposed to fix it is a complete, unconsiderate asshole—I really needed to get that out—. Am I writing this through a heat stroke? Maybe. 
> 
> Here's a new chapter of this. I didn't think they would pine this hard tbh. Keith and Shiro's friends represent me so bad lmao. Hope you enjoy it 💕💕 leave a comment of what you think about this chapter, please. Was it too much??

The storm clouds filling the town’s sky are making the light in the hallway seem faint. He's leaning on the chemistry lab window and looking inside, as subtle as he can be. Lance and Hunk are beside him, and Lance is annoyed because Keith has decided to spend his recess checking on Shiro. 

"I can't ask him out," Keith says, hopelessly. _It's never gonna happen_. "Just look at him, there's no way he'd even _look_ my way."

Lance leans on the window, looks at Shiro, and raises an eyebrow. 

"What the _heck_ am I supposed to look at? He looks even nerdier in that lab attire," he says, pointing at Shiro.

Lance doesn’t know what he’s talking about. 

"I don't know if that's supposed to be an insult, but watch the tone. And he looks _cute_. It's not my fault that _your_ concept of beauty comes from a bunch of magazines." 

"And yours is a-" Keith glares at Lance before he even _dares_ to insult Shiro "science guy that builds the future with his own hands, of course."

Shiro is showing off his science project. He's obviously gonna be in the science fair. The blonde girl in the first row in front of Shiro is smiling and nodding endlessly and like- Keith has never _related_ to someone as much as he does right now. Because Shiro looks so excited talking about that thing and Keith doesn't understand a word he's saying but _damn_ , he would do anything to preserve that smile, that tone in his voice. 

He has dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is not as neatly styled as usual—Keith is mentally fainting, because his hair is actually wavy, with little curls at the ends, and it looks so _fluffy_ and _why is this the first time he sees it?_ —, but he’s beaming. He and Matt had been working on this project for two months now, hoping to show that they're _“smarter than they look”._ And Keith didn’t know a single thing about bionic engineering, but he tried to help in everything he could, whether it was carrying pieces of the project or writing the documents. He even was the one that sketched the first concepts of it. 

The night before, Shiro had called him because he was too nervous to sleep, and they talked about their interests until he heard Shiro’s quiet snores in the phone. And Keith was incredibly tired, but man, was it _worth_ _it_. 

When he started working on the project, he only saw him on recess and when he took him to the box class. At first, he offered his help because he missed Shiro, but stayed because Shiro looked so incredibly joyful whenever he worked on it and Keith just _loved_ to see that smile. They worked on the Holt’s household because they had the best equipment, and the Holts were extremely supportive on their kids' creativity, they treated Shiro like one of their own and Keith was just grateful to be part of something like that. 

The girl raises her hand when Matt asks for volunteers, but she's still smiling at Shiro and _honestly_? That's a mood Keith can relate to. 

"I mean, look at that girl," Keith says, pointing to the pretty blonde that's now making goo goo eyes at Shiro. "She's practically swooning, Lance. _Swooning_."

Lance and Hunk get closer to the window, and Lance rolls his eyes. 

"She's just happy because now there's someone to do her homew-" Lance says, or is about to say, before Hunk puts a big sturdy hand in his mouth, to shut him up. Keith is glad, because he's sure he would've smacked Lance if he finished that sentence. 

"You're _right_ ," Hunk says to Keith, and he's gone full sad puppy mood. His brown eyes look at him like he's gonna tell him the pure honest truth, and if he said that the moon is made of cheese, Keith would probably believe him. 

He hasn't let go of Lance's face, and Lance is looking at Hunk like he's crazy, making weird choked up screams and fighting his hold. Hunk doesn't let go. 

"Look at him, dude," Hunk says, and Lance has given up his fighting "he's so _smart_. And he's got those-" he looks at Lance pointedly " _eyes_ , and that _smile_." Hunk proceeds to hold Lance tighter in one arm, so he can use the other one to give Keith a strong pat in the back. 

Keith is screwed. He's so, _so_ screwed. 

"Half that class wants to bang him right now, I'm sure of that," he says. "That girl over there," Hunk points to the blondie that Shiro is now helping use his project, standing so _unnecessarily_ close to her; "is going to wait for Shiro at the end of the class, to ask him for 'tutoring', and because Shiro is _so_ kind, he'll say yes. But we both _know_ that he ain't gonna tutor shit, do we?" 

Keith nods. 

"Man, if you don't make a move, someone else is gonna do it," Hunk says "I mean, if you weren't one of my best friends, I know _I_ would, too." Hunk deadpans, and Lance's scream is still muffled by Hunk's hand. He smacks him in the back of his head, and Keith is gaping, because Hunk is merely stating the _truth_. 

Shiro finally looks through the window, notices Keith is there and waves at him, with a soft smile and a blush spreading in his cheeks. Keith waves back, sighing, with a dumbstruck smile spreading in his face. 

"You're right," Keith says, and Hunk mutters a quiet ' _hallelujah_ ' to the sky. "I can't just _ask_ him out." 

Hunk lets go of Lance's face. 

"What?! _Why_?" Lance says, cleaning the spit off his face.

"I'm not enough," Keith says, looking at Shiro's beautiful grin through the window. "I need to court him. _Show_ him that I could be a good partner." 

" _What the actual fuck_?" Lance looks at Hunk desperately. 

"Keith, that's not what I meant," Hunk says, facepalming; " _at all_." 

"No, I get it. I'm gonna make a plan to woo Shiro," Keith says; "then I'll ask him out." 

"Man, I'm sure he's already been wooed, you don't have to worry about that." Hunk assures. 

"Yeah, he's so fucking wooed. The _wooest_." Lance adds. 

Shiro? Wooed? _Oh no_. 

"By who?" 

Hunk and Lance facepalm again. 

* * *

 

The sky is really teasing everyone in town. It just turns more grey every second that passes, and the air surrounding them gets more humid every time the take a breath. But it’s been hours, and it still doesn’t rain. Keith and Shiro both have free periods, and they decided to spend their time sitting on the stairs that lead to Keith’s class. 

"I'm embarrassed," Shiro says, flattening his hair with his hand; "I woke up kinda late." 

"You look great, don't worry," Keith assures, looking at him fondly. 

"I have bed hair." 

"You do," Keith says, "and it still looks better than those stupid hairstyles Lance spends two hours doing. In fact, I think it looks dope. You should use it like this more often. Maybe with a cream, to tame it a little." 

Keith really means it. He wishes he had a camera right now, because Shiro looks impossibly cute with his hair like that. 

"My uncle Ulaz has great hair, you should ask him," Keith says, "speaking of…" 

He grabs the sandwich his uncle gave him out of his bag and hands it to Shiro. He knows he hasn’t eaten, because he had been busy with the presentation.

"He made you a sandwich," he says, pointing to the sandwich; "it has meat on it. I don't know what kind of meat."

"A s-sandwich?" Shiro says, "but-" 

"You _have_ to eat it, dude," Keith says "I would've told you but I literally found out today. He threw the sandwich and me before I jumped on the bike on my way here and said:” he clears his throat, to do a better impersonation “' _for Shiro. He needs to gain weight'."_

The package says "Shiro" in his uncle's neat handwriting and Keith is internally beaming, because he knows his uncles don't make food for just _anyone_. They often pass and recommend recipes, but they don’t cook for people outside the family unless the situation explicitly calls for it. 

Shiro mutters a quiet “ _thank you_ ” and starts eating the sandwich, reluctantly. Keith proceeds to do the same. 

"You think I passed?" Shiro says. 

Um. 

_Yes?????!!_

"I think you totally _slaughtered_ that presentation, Shiro" Keith says, because he really did. "In the best way possible. I'm pretty sure your project's gonna help a lot of people. You might even go on TV."  

"Matt says we should sell it," Shiro says, "once- once the science fair is over. Mister Holt said he could help."

Shiro really did that. The plan is to give amputees something that could resemble their missing limb. A prosthetic controlled by thought. 

Seriously, these guys are in middle school because they want to. Keith's 99,9% sure they already know everything they're being taught. Keith hadn't met Shiro yet when they first had the idea, but Pidge had told him that they got it from a comic. A _comic_. And now they're actually gonna do it. 

"I mean, we've got it, theoretically,” Shiro says, after he swallows a bite of his sandwich. “We got the hard part: a device that could connect the nervous system to a machine. But the materials are too cheap and we need the help from actual scientists and experts other than Ms. and Mr. Holt."

"I'm sure many will be interested in it, Shiro" Keith says, "just promise you won't forget about me once you turn into an important scientist." 

A small, selfish part of Keith is afraid Shiro just head on gets a scholarship on MIT or something like that and never steps foot in this school again. 

"I would n-never forget about you, Keith," Shiro says, dead serious, looking at him in the eye; and the storm clouds in the sky match his eye color so beautifully that Keith runs out of breath, and blushes to the tips of his ears. 

“Is that a _promise_?” 

“Yes,” Shiro breaks the eye contact, a small red tint creeping into his cheeks “I- I promise.” 

They resume their eating, sitting in that comfortable silence, orchestrated by the soft rumbling of the rain.  

“Keith,” Shiro says. “there’s- there’s something I’d really like to ask you.” 

“Shoot.” 

Shiro is blushing furiously, and Keith gets a fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach. He pushes it aside, trying to be rational. _There’s no way…_

"Orionids meteor shower it's gonna be at its peak on October 21st and 22nd. The 22nd is this friday, so…" Shiro is fidgeting with his hands, avoiding his gaze "would you- uhm, like to watch it together? I- I have a telescope, and me and my grandpa always go camping in the outskirts of the city to watch things like that." 

Would he like stargazing with Shiro during a fucking meteor shower? _Hell yeah_. 

"Nah, I don't think I'd like it," He says. Shiro doesn't even get do deflate like a popped balloon because- "I'd _love_ it! It's been months since we hung out, dude; I _missed you_. I'll just ask my dad. And the day after you can come with me to my house, to celebrate my birthday. "

_Did he just dude-zoned himself?_ Keith, you fucking idiot-

"Hanging out, _yes_." Shiro is looking at him really weird now, and the blush hasn't gone off. "I missed you too." he says, turning to look at his own lap " _dude_."

And _ouch_ , that hurt. But he can't even complain, because he brought this on himself. He can't get sad for too long, because Shiro seems to catch up on something. 

"Wait- your birthday is this _saturday_?!" Shiro's eyes are sparkling, and his voice gets impossibly high "Why didn't you _tell me_ before? I- I would've gotten you a gift." Shiro blinks rapidly "s-several. _Several_ gifts. This changes everything!!" 

"You're already taking me stargazing with you," Keith says, "that's like- the best birthday present ever." 

Shiro looks amusingly flustered. His cheeks look even more puffy and red, his eyes are shining, he's gaping… and Keith realizes, for the tenth time in the day, that this kid has him _wrapped_ around his finger. 

 

* * *

 

Shiro wants to _cry_. Keith only sees him as a dude. A _dude_. A brother, a _friend_. He'll never see him as anything more. But _how could Shiro think otherwise?_ Keith is so amazing, and Shiro literally cried to sleep once because Austin said that he's " _useless_ ".

He starts to think that he's ironically right. 

"You had one job, Shirogane. One job," Matt says. 

They're hanging out on the Holt's house. Shiro's decidedly moping on Matt's bed, while Bae Bae is licking his hand, that hangs loose in the edge of the bed. That dog is the only one in the room comforting Shiro, and he can't even complain, because he _deserves_ it. He should have done something. 

Matt is looking at the computer, and Pidge is walking around the room with a big frown on her face. 

"I can't believe you fucked it up," Pidge says, rubbing at her temples. "we literally wrote a script. A _script_. And we rehearsed it for weeks. How- _how_. Matt" she turns to Matt. "Was it such a hard thing to do?" 

 

Matt shakes his head, without looking away from the screen of his computer. 

"It _wasn't_ " Matt looks like he _can't believe it_ when he puts his gaze on Shiro, adjusting his glasses. " ' _Keith, would you like to watch the meteor shower this friday with me?'._ " 

"Keith's cue to say ' _yes_ ,'" Pidge interrupts, talking quickly. 

"' _Great. It's a date then_ '." Matt deadpans. He closes the laptop and moves closer to Shiro. 

"And… _Curtain call._ " Pidge says, "that was literally everything you had to do. And you _still_ fucked it up."

"I- I know but-" Shiro sighs, frustrated, "he didn't say yes, _per se_. He started going on about how he missed hanging out with me. He even called me ' _dude_ '."

"And you let him," Pidge says, sarcastic, "you let him misinterpret everything we've been building without any opposition? _Bitch_ , you had to stand your ground." She fists one hand in the other to make a point, "Say it's a date. The word won't bite ya."

"Katie-" Matt is patting Shiro on the back, and Shiro wants Matt to smack him. In the face. He _totally_ deserves it. Because Pidge is _right_. He lacked the guts, as he always does. 

"He only had to follow the motherfucking _script_ , Matt," Pidge says "First- you said you couldn't ask him out because you didn't know if he was gay. _What did Pidge do?_ Straight out ask him if he liked guys, In the middle of Chemistry." Pidge is walking in circles through the room, and Matt mutters a small ' _just let her be'_ to Shiro, so he listens. "Then you said you couldn't ask him out because he didn't know if you were gay. _What did Pidge do?_ Talk about boys with you in front of him for a whole week, even though I don't give a _fuck_ about boys. And now that we finally found an infallible way for you guys to date, you still managed to fuck. _It._ **_Up_**."

Shiro and Matt stay silent for a few minutes, hoping she calms down. Pidge finally takes a deep breath, so Matt talks again. 

"Okay, get up" Matt says, picking Shiro up from the bed, his brown eyes staring at him severely "I don't care if you guys ended that conversation being _bros_ , _dudes_ , _pals_ or whatever it is you call it." He grabs him by his shoulders "you, my man, are going to treat it like it was supposed to be. A date. Full flirting mode, romantic shit, compliments and everything." He lets go of his shoulders, smacking him lightly on the cheek, "And If you don't, I'll smack you _so_ hard you're gonna see your ancestors. Understood?"

Shiro nods. 

"And you better get him the best birthday present ever, dude," Pidge says " _'I will marry your dumb ass_ ' kinda present."

* * *

 

"You cannot be this dumb, Keith" Lance says, holding the marker pointedly. 

They're at his house. His dad is on duty, so his uncles are taking care of him for now. Uncle Kolivan and Antok are watching TV in the living room, and Keith is arranging plans with Hunk and Lance in his bedroom. It might not be a date—Shiro left that _really_ clear—, but it could be an opportunity. 

**_Operation: Wooing Shiro_ **

**_Starting from_ **

**_10/22/2010, "stargazing operative"_ **

"Hey guys, don't you think it's _nerdy_ to put all this in a board and call it an 'operation'?" Hunk says. He's laying on Keith's bed, playing with his father's stress ball. 

"I don't care, really," Keith says. "Do you, Lance?" 

Lance steps away from the board and sits on Keith's desk like it's nothing. 

"If there's something I learned from befriending you is that nothing you do can get you the title of ' _nerd_ ' in the eyes of society, Keith" Lance says, " _ergo_ , nothing is nerdy unless you think it is. So no, I do not care."

Keith blinks one, two times. 

"Returning to my former complaint," Lance says, solemn. "you really, seriously, _cannot_ be this dumb." He facepalms, and his face it's gonna stay irritated if he keeps doing that; "he was totally trying to ask you out, man." 

 

"He wasn't." Keith says, because it's true. There's no way in _hell_ that someone like Shiro would be interested in him. 

Lance sighs, rubbing his temples. 

" _Lord, give me patience, because if you give me strength I'll kill him,_ " Lance mutters, mostly to himself, and Keith doesn't catch a word. He sighs, as if containing his patience in one, motherly tone " _my boy_. He literally asked you to look at the starry sky with him, a meteor shower, the night before your birthday. What _part_ of all that doesn't scream 'date' to you?" 

"The part where he called me ' _dude_ '." 

Lance actually makes a _praying_ motion, looking at the ceiling. 

"Yeah, that's because _you_ said it _first_!," Lance groans, "Hunk, _can I punch him?_ Just one time, _please_?" he says, with tears in his eyes. 

"Lance, stay still. I don't want you to die." Hunk says, and that's probably for the best. 

"Well _I_ do. I'd rather die than stand this idiot's senseless pining for one more second."

"Would you guys _stop_? I really don't want to get my hopes up," Keith says. 

"You're so _insufferable_." Lance responds. 

"I'm gonna have to agree with Lance on this one, man;" Hunk says, "that was the biggest _'no homo'_ I've ever heard. You screwed it up for yourself." 

"Yeah. How in hell are you gonna _woo_ Shiro, if you already pulled the biggest ' _shoo_ ' you could ever do to anyone. Like, even _I_ know that, and I don't even like guys." Lance rolls his eyes. 

Oh _no_. He's right. Keith's fucked up so bad. So,  _so, so_ bad. 

"We can still fix this," Hunk says. "You're gonna flirt with him. Use cologne, smirk at him, hold his hand; full romcom mode, dude."

"But it isn't-" 

"It _so_ is," Lance whines. "Listen to the man, there's a reason why _he's_ the rational one," he says, pointing to Hunk. 

"I'm gonna make you the best ladies' man ever-" Hunk assures, "or _gentlemen's_ man, i don't know. It's the same, isn't it?" 

"I don't know, probably," Lance says, "do we know anyone that actually _succeeded_ in wooing a boy?" 

They roll around that thought for a few minutes, 'til Hunk speaks up. 

"Keith does! Don't you have two uncles?"

_Dude_. 

"I have _five_ uncles, Hunk." Keith says. They've met them. _How is this relevant?_

"No, I know that, but like- an uncle with a _husband_." 

Oh. 

_Oh_. 

That's the reason why, a few minutes later—after Keith gathered up his courage and left his pride on the floor—his uncle Antok is currently sitting on Keith's bed, confusion plastered on his face. Lance and Hunk are sitting on the floor with little notebooks on their laps. Hunk put on some glasses that he got God-knows-where, and Keith is utterly embarrassed. 

"You gon' do _what_?" Antok says, reading the words written in the board. Keith wants to die. 

_He does it for Shiro, he does it for Shiro…_

"We're taking tips from an actual couple so Keith can court the boy he likes, sir. It's for educational purposes." Hunk says, professionally. 

"Indeed," Lance deadpans. Keith cringes. 

"Okay, _it all started when…"_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance phrase it's a literal translation of a latinx saying "God give me patience because if you give me strength I'll kill him"  
> "Dios dame paciencia porque si me das fuerza lo mato."  
> I'm latina and I literally panicked because maybe I'm writing cuban Lance wrong?????????????  
> Also fun fact: when searching the astronomical dates I wrote 'astrological' instead of 'astronomical' and I didn't realize it until I was halfway into writing that scene. Yep, Shiro was gonna say shit like "Capricorn is entering virgo on the 22nd, wanna see it with me?"
> 
> I'm such an idiot.


End file.
